


Agony of the Feet

by Weavillain



Category: The Loud House (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Foot Jobs, Library, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 05:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13000608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weavillain/pseuds/Weavillain
Summary: Needless to say, this was the last situation that Lincoln thought that he'd be in with Paige...and in the library, no less!





	1. Chapter 1

Lincoln had to admit that despite his misgivings about Royal Wood High School's library, it was _slightly_ less drab than he thought it would look.

The room's set-up was just about as average as he thought that any generic school library would shape up to be; a few dozen bookshelves, a row of out-of-date computers in the middle of the room, cheesy motivational posters plastered across the walls, some desks scattered about, a staff of librarians who were barely abiding by their enforced noise tolerance with their water cooler talk behind the information desk...

Yep. Just about as hum-drum as he expected.

Lincoln supposed that most people would find it strange that he hadn't so much as _seen_ the library's interior by now—given that he was a junior—but if he thought himself to be anything, it was a man (well, a _sixteen_ -year-old man, but whatever) of principles.

Granted, it wasn't that Lincoln was against libraries in general, but a _school_ library was somewhat of a different animal altogether—from what he could glean from this days as an elementary and a middle school student, school libraries didn't care to foster the adventures of his favorite comic book characters.

Lincoln rolled his eyes at the negligence, thinking that it was a deliberate attempt by the school's faculty to cultivate the best learning environment possible by not letting the minds of the students be "poisoned" with the "evils" of whimsical flights of fancy (which were apparently only a problem if they were in comic book form). Whatever the case may be, Lincoln simply didn't see the point of bothering with a school library if his treasured comic books weren't a priority (even if he hadn't actually bothered to see if his qualms had any merit in _this_ case).

Why would he bother giving the time of day to a place that seemed hellbent on not giving _him_ the time of day? Where was his drive? What was his motivation? Where was his reason?

As of this late April afternoon, he had been given such a reason by one Paige Emmett.

Paige wasn't anyone special, if he didn't consider her being his crush for the past five years as "special". But whether Lincoln found her "special" or not didn't change the fact that thanks to the dice roll of chance (or, y'know, the whims of his history teacher) landing in his favor, he and Paige had been paired up to tackle a two-man group research project on the Industrial Revolution and its societal effects on America.

Of course, getting the chance to team up with her _had_ to have its downside; gotta love those catches.

Apparently, Mr. Palmer _wasn't_ caught up with the rest of the world and the fact that any school assignment, that needed sources, was better off done on a computer, where the necessary information to complete said assignment was literally at one's fingertips. However, because of his Stone Age mentality, he deemed that the class assignment's sources were strictly limited to books, a restriction that had only taken a tiny bit of wind out of Lincoln's sails because guess what, you crotchety old fart?! Friggin' Paige Emmett was his partner, and ain't nothin' ruining that!

In the end, it had been Paige to suggest that they come together (in a strictly _studious_ way as far as Lincoln's common sense could deduce) after school and get cracking on their research with a trip to the school library.

Had it been anyone else, Lincoln would've objected to the proposal on the spot, (there was a perfectly suitable public library with comic books he could read after some heavy-duty research, thank you very much) but how could he possibly say "no" to that face? Y'know, _that_ face—eyes of bright blue that sparkled like a dazzling ocean, light orange hair that was crafted from the brilliant beams of the Sun itself, pretty little pink lips that made the cutest stomach-flopping smiles, an adorable, pert, pudgy nose that was just _begging_ to be kissed…

…

…

…

But yeah, back to the the school library; it was far from the best place on Earth, but simply being with Paige made it all worth it.

After they had both spent a good twenty minutes combing the many, many, many bookshelves for the proper material, Lincoln and Paige found themselves sitting across from each other at a dingy little table in a far corner of the library; to Lincoln, it felt like he was sitting at one of Lola's old tea parties all over again, what with how cramped his legs felt under the desk.

"Well, Lincoln," Paige said in a hushed tone, all while she looked down disinterestedly at a thick, gray book, "you ready to do this?"

The way those words snaked past her lips and buzzed around his head, singing in his ears like a chorus of sirens, was enough to slowly but surely make… _another_ part of his anatomy feel cramped as it stiffened and pressed into the rough fabric of his shorts, the friction doing nothing but excite him further; oh yeah, and the unimplied double meaning of "you ready to do this" didn't help either.

God, he was going to poke a hole through his shorts at this rate!

"As, uh, ready as I'll ever be," Lincoln replied shakily, flushing in guilt when Paige appeared to see right through the smoke and mirrors of his slipshod façade of "totally not perving on the drop dead gorgeous study partner sitting across from me and dripping sexy out of her skin like sweat, sweat that I wouldn't mind licking off every inch of her—"

' _Aaaaaaaand time to research!'_

Lincoln scrambled for a book, _any_ book, from the pile in the middle of the table, blindly flipped it open, and hurriedly scanned his eyes across the pages while his brain was too occupied with fright to process the words in front of him.

What he _could_ process, on the other hand, was that he had to get a hold of his libido and _fast_ , lest he let Paige down by being too distracted to do his fair share of the workload and most importantly, freak her out with any semblance of his inner conflict slipping through the cracks of his studious visage.

* * *

At the moment, the last thing that Lincoln felt that he needed to be was attentive to anything _other_ than the book in front of him. Had he decided to look up for even half a second, he might've been able to spot Paige's eyes flitting across him, roaming his body like he was a delectable prime rib that she was ready to pounce and dig into at any second.

"Glad to hear it," Paige replied, a toothy grin stretched across her face.

She allowed her tongue to slither out to play, wetting her bottom lip with a languid stroke. She had to keep herself from panting excitedly as she repeatedly told herself that soon, _very_ soon, Lincoln would hers for the taking—for now, though, she just needed to have a little patience, wait for the library to be just a _little_ less populated, and _then_ she could have her prize. Of course, committing to their project assignment was important, but it wasn't as if Paige didn't feel like she could kill two birds with one stone…

Well, more like kill one bird (the research assignment) and screw the other bird's (Lincoln's) brains out after she got the ball rolling.

It didn't take much for Paige to catch onto the fact that Lincoln Loud had a thing for her; those longing sidelong glances, that she'd repeatedly catch him sending her way during lunch when he clearly thought she wasn't looking, pretty much said it all.

Oh, and the fact that he could barely get a sentence together whenever she'd try to initiate a meaningful conversation beyond a customary, "Hey, how's it going?".

And don't even get her started on the constant blushing and nervous grins; too adorable for words!

The sight of him trying to keep his cool around her never failed to fantasize about her grabbing him and smothering him with kisses, swooning from his dreamy sighs and whiny begs as he pleaded for more of her sweet attention.

Yeah, it was needless to say that Paige Emmett was more than a little smitten with Lincoln Loud. But it wasn't as if she needed any help with that; even now, five years after she realized that he existed, that cute boyish charm was still as customary as ever, and it was a mystery to her why it took until recently for it to finally affect her.

But she couldn't let the regret of not coming around sooner than now to blind her ambitions, could she? Oh, most certainly not, not when Lincoln Loud— _the_ Lincoln Loud of all of her latest wild, alluring, ecstasy-filled, pleasurable dreams—was so vulnerable, so delightfully susceptible to any of the covert advances that she'd be more than happy to break out on him and watch, with the utmost gratification, as she'd turn him into a pile of mush as he panted her name out in ragged puffs, coaching her on as she continued to—

' _No!'_

Paige was just barely able to break away from fantasizing any longer before her thoughts could drift her further towards the point of no return, a place where restraint would be all but forgotten.

' _Patience, Paige,'_ she told herself again as she returned to the book that _didn't_ make her feel all giddily horny with tingles in her tummy as she thought of the many ways she could play with that cowlick with her fingers and tongue before she'd do the same to his—

' _ **PATIENCE!**_ _'_


	2. Chapter 2

No one, absolutely _no one_ , could tell Lincoln that he _hadn't_ been trying his damnedest to behave himself for the past thirty minutes or so, doing his very best to keep his mind dedicated to scouring the pages of the book before him and force it from taking up residence in the gutter.

 _Again_.

The Lord knew that he really was trying—the problem, though, was that the Lord _also_ knew the perverted thoughts that kept sprouting up in his brain like a bad case of acne, steering him completely off the rails as he fumbled around in the haze of his horndog fantasies; all of them made him ache and pulse furiously.

Oh, God, did he ever _ache_ —he wasn't kidding when he thought that he'd wind up unwittingly poking his own glory hole through his shorts if this kept up.

And, for just the briefest second, he allowed himself to believe that such an outcome would be okay; maybe Paige would take interest, be mesmerized by the evidence of his desire jutting proudly from its denim prison. Maybe, if he asked nicely, she'd play with it a little, stroking inch by inch between those deft, smooth fingers. Perhaps she'd handle it like a joystick and gently roll it around in her firm grip as his heat warmed her flesh. And, if he was _really_ lucky, she might even give it a taste with her tongue, the cool, velvety texture sending him over the edge as the friction would undoubtedly send hundreds of bolts of pure fire straight to his loins, threatening to make him burst.

Or perhaps…no, scratch that, he should most _definitely_ get back on track before he entertained those desires any longer.

But just as soon as he decided to do that, his body betrayed him again—an innocent gesture, just a simple upward twist of his neck to get a stiff little crick out, made his gaze inadvertently land on her again, and it was back to square one with him utterly spellbound.

' _Are you fuc…get it together, Lincoln!'_

With his sheer willpower proving to be ineffective, Lincoln opted for a more tactical approach as he quickly scrambled through a mental slideshow, conjuring up some of the most disgusting, putrid, erection-killing images that he could put together.

' _Rotting meat! Festering boils! Dead kittens! Naked old ladies! Leprosy! Um…uh…n-naked old ladies_ _with_ _leprosy!'_

But to his ever-present shame and horror, by the time he reached the end of his "Boner-B-Gone" litany, he realized that he was worse off than when he started his exercise in futility; if anything, all that gross imagery succeeded in doing was churning his brain into defensive mode, bombarding him with yet _another_ menagerie of daydreams.

Lincoln sighed mentally, feeling his resolve snap in two with frustration that _wasn't_ sexual for a change.

Fine. You win. One more. Just _one_ more distraction, and he'd be done with these diversions for good. _'Happy now, brain? You gonna let me read in peace and not make me pitch tents every ten seconds?'_

But before he could be given a reassuring sign that his compromise was accepted, he was whisked away in the arms of his devilish little tour guide—his cackling, impish libido—and within three seconds, he was as good as gone.

Mother of God, he was gonna need a search and rescue party to bring him back from _this_ one.

* * *

' _Now,'_ Paige thought with a mischievous leer as she began to slip her feet out of her sandals one by one, letting them drop to the floor with a quiet _thunk_.

Of course, now that there was virtually no one else within their immediate vicinity, it wasn't like she _had_ to be so cautious, but she figured that being careful wasn't a bad thing.

She wiggled her toes a little, loosening up her joints in preparation for what was about to come next.

Oh, this… _this_ was gonna be fun.

* * *

Unlike his previous sinful little mental detours, this one was perfect; _too_ perfect, in fact:

_There was Paige (because why wouldn't she be there?) at Gus' Games and Grub, in the zone as she piloted her ship through the digital space of Alien Hunter, blasting away at any enemy battleship that was foolish enough to get in her way._

_He was there too, of course, watching her from about a foot away and thinking that every little exerted grunt she made was music to his ears, and the little swivels and shimmies her hips did, as she drove her body in with each shift of the joystick, was alluring enough to pay to see. What made it even better was from what he could tell, they were alone—it was as if she was putting on a little show for his eyes alone._

_And just when he thought that being a silent observer was more than enough, she looked over her shoulder at him, casting him a flirty look that made his heart hammer against his ribs and his mouth dry up as if it were a desert._

" _Hey, Linc?" she cooed, the sultry melody making him blush and harden in an instant—the arousing sensation was intensified from the fact that she didn't even need to keep her eyes on the game to expertly cruise through her current mission without a problem._

" _Uh huh?" he replied timidly, nearly swallowing his tongue from his nervous gulp as his eyes dared to break away from her hypnotic irises, trail down the curve of her spine, and finally rest on her shapely derrière._

_His head jerked up (along with his second head) when her sweet voice called out to him again._

" _This game's…a little dull," she said, every syllable drenched with deliberate seduction. "I need a…distraction to make it a little challenging."_

_There was nothing about her tone that made Lincoln feel like her proposal was innocuous. "A...a…d-distraction?"_

" _Mmhmm."_

" _What, uh, kind of distraction?" he asked, testing the waters._

 _And that's when the dam of his restraint fractured down the middle, desire pouring through the cracks—what she told him next gave him no excuse_ _not_ _to be bold._

" _Whatever you want," she said with a wink, and turned back around, her invitation clinging in the air and prodding him forward. "Surprise me."_

_And surprise her, Lincoln most certainly did; at least, that's what he could gather from the startled little gasp that rushed into her lungs when he marched towards her and cupped his hands around her waist._

_He moved in even closer, melding his chest against her back and savoring the warmth—his heart skipped a beat when he felt the clip of her bra strap lightly scrape against his nipple._

_His hips followed suit, and he hissed through his teeth as his groin slowly pressed into her backside, the pliable surface of her curves making sweet friction against him as he sank into her and drank in every moan she made with his subtle thrusts._

" _Mmmmmmm," she hummed lowly as she rocked back and forth against him, his hardness making her head loll back._

_Her sweet sounds only made his groin tingle, nearly to the point of blissful agony, and his advances even bolder—his idle fingers stirred to life and found themselves leaving her waist and skimming under her shirt, his smooth fingertips grazing her skin and eliciting twitches and spasms from her tight, little tummy._

_Soon, his breathy pants melted into her own as he leaned his head forward and pressed his mouth softly against the pulse of her neck, skimming her skin with the velvety pressure of his lips. He was pleased with her needy gasp, and he rewarded her with a leisurely lick along the outer ridge of her ear—he flashed a crooked smile when she shuddered and whimpered once his tongue left her, no doubt leaving her wanting._

_By now, she was no longer attending to her little arcade game, having already lost her three lives after what felt like eons ago. But that suited Lincoln just fine, and he knew better than to assume that Paige was downhearted about her failing to live up to her challenge for long._

_With devilish intent, his brought his lips up the side of her face, giving her a brief peck against the corner of her mouth, and he smirked as he watched it quiver. He did it again, this time behind her ear, and he couldn't suppress his grin as she let out a long sigh._

" _This a good enough distraction?" he whispered saucily into her ear, even after the fact that she had already lost—that still didn't stop his appreciation from the fact that it was his voice that made goosebumps break out along her arms._

_Her heady reply drove him to madness as it pierced through his ears and made his hardness throb excitedly. "Ooooh, Lincy~!"_

_He was more than happy to make her squeal louder than that, he decided as he peppered kisses across the expanse of the back of her neck and picked up the pace of his grinding against her soft, doughy rear, his dips and ascents making longer, harder strokes that electrified him in all the right places._

_Meanwhile, his hands had minds of their own, roaming freely and independently of the other as they skidded their tips across her ribs, between her shoulder blades, along her fabric-covered bosom…until they both united in their quest for a more satisfying venture and began to unbutton and unzip her pants. Lincoln nearly drooled when he imagined how his fingers would feel in there, sliding in and out as her heat pleasantly scorched him and her imminent cries to the heavens sang his praises._

_He stepped back slightly to allow her jeans to fall around her ankles, but the loss of her body heat, no matter how short the longing lasted, sent icky, cold shivers down his spine that had to go._

_Now._

_With nothing but a pair of cute, frilly white panties between him and his nirvana, Lincoln didn't hesitate to press back against her again, groaning over Paige's tiny ecstatic mewl as he felt himself slightly yet rigidly wedged in the crease of her butt._

" _P-please…" she spluttered in a desperate pant, her beg nearly sending him over the edge._

_Though her needs weren't fully spoken, he felt confident enough to please her and satisfy his own ambition at the same time._

_With a wicked grin, he used his teeth to rake the flushed skin of her shoulders and neck while his hands got to work, his thumbs hooking the waistband of her underwear._

* * *

But before he could go any further, a little shiver ran down his calf, the sensation snapping him out of his trance and jolting him back to reality.


	3. Chapter 3

' _The hell?'_

Lincoln had no idea what he could call… _whatever_ it was that just traced over his skin, but it did the trick in abruptly yanking him out of his daydream, as if someone had thrown scalding hot coffee in his face to perk him up (and to piss him off).

The first thing Lincoln realized was that he was…wet? His face glowed with shame, the next few seconds granting him with the dawning knowledge that he wasn't necessarily wet as much as he was… _sticky_ ; all in all, it was a little glob that partially grafted the tip of his erection against his boxers, but that didn't make the prospect of being so sinfully "moist", with Paige Emmett sitting across from him, any less uncomfortable.

The second, and thankfully less embarrassing of his observations, came in the form of Paige herself. He must've not made enough noise or bore any unsavory expressions during his mental vacation because as far as he could tell, her present fixture of attention was in that book of hers and mercifully, not on him as she would have undoubtedly lambasted him for not only neglecting their assignment but for lecherously fawning over her like a pervert.

But the return to his better senses, to getting his head back in the books, had to wait for just a little while longer. He was still left in the dark about what it was that had just kicked…no, brushed (?) against his calf. It wasn't the "what" that confused him, however; he had been in enough sibling scuffles to know what skin-on-skin contact was. Add to the fact that the fleeting touch had happened under the table, and Lincoln could ascertain that it was Paige's leg that had stroked him.

Now, it was all about figuring out the "why". He had the wisdom to burn down the buds of hope that immediately sprang up, which nearly led to a certain softening appendage from "springing up" again; there was no way, absolutely no way, that Paige had done that on purpose, at least _flirtatiously_. It wasn't as if she'd ever be interested in someone like him anyway and even if she was, he figured (more so _hoped_ ) that her advances on him would be less subtle, less room for any doubt behind her actions. So, that left him with the only one logical conclusion.

It was all an accident. A delightfully pleasant accident that had—no matter how quick and chaste it was— almost stimulated him all over again, but still nothing more than happenstance that he wouldn't mind happening to him ag—

"Wha?!" Lincoln squeaked as his heart leapt in his chest, his desires unexpectedly met in the blink of an eye.

There it was _again_ —no longer amid his fanciful passion, he could not only feel the titillating contact against his calf with better clarity, but he could make out the finer details; her toes had briefly sunk into his muscles, firmly pushing in before those wonderful digits pulled away…

…before they returned, this time digging in with enough force for Lincoln to discern—with a volatile mixture of excitement, joy and confusion—that her touch was… _intentional_.

A billion thoughts raced through his brain at once, and the first to cross the finish line was the one that told him to play it cool, goddammit; _don't_ look at her, _don't_ make any weird faces, and don't make any strange noi—

" _Gah!_ " Lincoln was too late to clamp a hand over his mouth before that high-pitched squeal could fumble out.

Well, so much for playing it cool; even with his dedication to not looking like a total chump, all it took was one quick drag of her toes down the back of his leg to melt his insides. He thought that his only silver lining came from the fact that their little corner of the library was isolated, meaning no one else could hear his unmanly squawks.

He was forced to add on another blessing when that heavenly touch revisited him, along with the foot that had been dormant until now. This time, though, instead of kneading his calf, they rested on either side of his shin, slowly trailing up and down in alternating circuits. Lincoln's spine was racked with a shudder at the feeling of the balls of each foot pressing firmly against him.

Though Lincoln wasn't about to deny himself the pleasure, he was still mystified by this experience. He never considered himself as someone who was into feet; his tastes were what one would call "traditional". And yet, here he was, moaning softly and quickly hardening as Paige's feet ground into his flesh, lighting his nerve endings like a raging brushfire. Perhaps it was the fact that Paige was administering this attention that did the trick. Or maybe she was an expert in this kind of thing and knew what "buttons" to push, so to speak.

Either way, it was hot as hell.

His sentiments, in all their unspoken glory, must've gotten through to Paige somehow because for the first time since she started her little game of footsie, she tore her eyes away from her book, and gave her prey a wink, one that was reminiscent of the first one that she had sent his way all those years ago and ensnared his heart in the process.

"U-um…uh…" Lincoln mumbled, his cheeks reddened from how his lack of composure didn't permit him to do anything but murmur pathetically from just one little wink.

Thankfully, she must've found it cute because she merely snickered and resumed "reading". Lincoln would've breathed a sigh of relief…

…had his lungs not sucked in a sharp gasp from the abrupt motion of one of Paige's feet lightly skimming his shin before the foot's arch lazily dragged over his knee.

Her other foot was more active, as it left his leg to grip the heel of his shoe, her toes grazing over his skin as her foot slowly but surely began to slip it off his own foot.

His sock came next. Lincoln shivered in pleasure when the bare skin of her foot skimmed him as she tugged the garment off in the same fashion as she did with his shoe.

The breadth of chilly air only cooled his foot for a second; both of her feet came down to glide over his skin, rubbing him from all angles and warming him instantly. A dazed grin broke on Lincoln's face; he had no idea what her soles were made of because there was no way that normal skin was supposed to feel like heaven on Earth.

" _Ahhhhh,_ " he moaned when her big toe smoothed over his ankle, slowly tracing circles around the joint.

* * *

That _moan_ ; good Lord, was it music to her ears.

Paige felt herself blush, nearly dripping with excitement from that noise alone. Her brain was marinated in ecstasy, adrift the raging currents of the desire that pounded her senses to mush. Every little twitch his face made, a sign of her teasing sending him to another euphoric high, elicited another maddening, wonderful, throbbing ache at her core, and it tempted her to rub her legs together to suppress the deliciously painful tremors.

But her Lincy needed her, _wanted_ her to continue, and she wasn't about to leave him starving for the touch.

She elicited another contented moan from him when started to tenderly stroke one of her heels over his instep, rippling twitches vibrating through her skin from the way it shuddered under her ministrations.

Wild flutters abounded in her belly when she got a good look of his unfocused eyes; glazed with a sheen of elation as they transfixed their gaze upon her. She took it as a tribute to her, a sign of how captivated he was and how his devoted passion for her was unmatched.

But all that meant for Paige was that she'd have to continue to do her part and fight for his attention, never relenting until there wasn't any room for anyone else to sneak up on him and sink their disgusting, filthy claws into what was _hers_.

Paige's lips grew into a tiny smirk. It was time to up the ante a little bit.

* * *

With his head cooked in a steamy fog, Lincoln couldn't focus his mind on deciding what was better about this; the fact that Paige was practically groping him or that she could make him feel so lustful and stiff with just her _feet_.

He couldn't denounce the pleasure she was bestowing on him by thinking about her playing with his body with other, admittedly more tantalizing features (he always wondered how her tits would feel underneath his grabby hands)—this was a gift from the gods, a treasure that he was deemed worthy to be bequeathed with. If this was all Paige wanted to do with him, even after this was over, then he'd submit to her whims with nary a complaint.

He slouched in his seat and let out another shuddering sigh when the toes of one of her feet began to lightly prod between his, working between the crevices. The other foot was less attentive, though Lincoln's cock twitched all the same with how the sole glided across his shin like butter.

But then, just when he thought things couldn't be any better, he was kicked out and left in the bitter cold; those lovely little feet suddenly drifted away, and it was all he could do to keep himself from groaning in disappointment.

He took the departure with more dignity than he thought he could muster, finding it miraculous that he hadn't resorted to pleading for her to continue. Oh well, he had his fun (way more fun than he could've ever hoped to have). It was time to take up his post as a studious, dedicated partner and get back to—

Lincoln all but squeaked, his heart nearly bolted up into his throat from surprise…and a sudden spike of arousal. He shot his research partner a befuddled look, and his face lit up from another burning blush when his confusion was reciprocated with wagging eyebrows and a naughty leer.

Paige, without so much as a slight hint of shame on display, had quite literally pressed her foot against the bulge in his shorts. He winced from the tendrils of nigh overbearing pleasure that drummed into his dick with each firm little grind that the balls of her foot made against his heated flesh, his shorts acting as an ineffective barrier.

"Thought I left you hangin', Linky?" she purred lowly, cackling with how his face twisted in blissful grimace as he sharply exhaled through his nose while he gritted his teeth.

He could only croak out a series of raspy, whiny mewls in reply, his pride be damned; he'd do just about _anything_ for this sweet torment to go on, whether their little public stunt was discovered or not.

Her motions slowed and transitioned to paintbrush-like strokes, the bombardment halted in favor of dragging out his torture at an agonizingly slow pace. Without the wherewithal to stop himself, Lincoln let out a needy whine. His blush crept down to his neck when he heard Paige chuckle mirthfully.

"It's okay, Linky," she cooed softly, her mouth formed in a cute little "o" shape. "Just be patient, _okaaaaaay_?"

He heard her—he even went as far as _believing_ her—but belief didn't stop the inferno that roared in his groin and craved for its lustful flames to be rekindled back to life.

Like, _now_ please.

But the sensation of gnawing hunger quickly became overshadow by curiosity as he felt the front of his shorts begin to…tug?

His ears perked up, and his mouth fell open when he began to hear… _zipping_.

There was still enough blood in his brain for him to put two and two together, and it made him pant in anticipation; those talented little toes had gripped his zipper and were pulling it down with ease.

The button came next, the dexterity of both of her feet coming into play. In his mind's eye, Paige was smirking gleefully at his awe.

From there, a foot poked around blindly, tapping against his hard length in search for—

"Ah, _here_ we are."

The slit, the gateway into a dimension of unspeakable possibility.

Lincoln's heart clenched with the first little nudge as her toes wormed through the opening and graced his tip with the lightness of a feather. His back arched, breathing became more labored, and his arms shook from _that_ alone.

And then his eyes rolled back when she deftly wedged his hardness between her big and second toe and began to pump.

His hips thrust into her with involuntary spasms, the smooth abrasion of her toes nearly sending him over the edge. His nerves churned the flames of pure divine rapture through his body, and it wouldn't be too long before he…he…

Woah. _'O-oh God!'_

He was so _cloooooose_ ; stars…constellations… _galaxies_ were already exploding behind his squeezed eyes as electricity spiraled through his brain and intertwined with the pulse in his dick that beat in tune with every stroke of her glorious foot; he vowed to worship it in unholy consecration after she was finished.

And with one last drag, the dull nail of her toe grazing him ever so pleasingly, he was spent; his mouth hung open in a silent scream as he reached his climax.

* * *

About a minute later, Lincoln was _still_ breathless; his upper body laid across the table as he breathed in and out as if he had just run a marathon.

Around the town.

Twice.

Try as he might, he just couldn't give Paige the presence of mind, leaving her to be in charge of cleaning up his...mess. She was fast enough to push her feet away in the nick of time, leaving the floor as the only target of Lincoln's trajectory. Just as she was about to leave him to run to the bathroom and grab some paper towels, she sauntered back to his side on wobbly legs, still not entirely off from her own sexual high—even if it didn't come close to being as satisfying as _his_.

Lincoln knew that he'd have to fix that soon, and he hoped that she was up to letting him have that chance.

He flinched when he felt her lay across his back, and even with his senses dulled, there was just the tiniest spark of heat when her lips ghosted over his ear, her breath fanning his heated, sweaty skin.

"You. Me. This Saturday. My place or yours?" she whispered.

That was an easy choice; he couldn't imagine them doing much of anything with his sisters buzzing around.

"Yours," he replied shakily. "D-definitely yours."

"Good choice."

She pecked him on the cheek, gave his hair a ruffle, and left him.

As Lincoln watched her leave, his eyes trained on the bounce from her glutes with each step she took, a thought, an undying sentiment that would never leave him, rang out in his head. _'God, I_ _fucking_ _love the library.'_

* * *


End file.
